


One is the Loneliest Number

by We_Have_Become_Anathema



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/We_Have_Become_Anathema/pseuds/We_Have_Become_Anathema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets stood up by his friends at the movie theatre, but Dean won't let that stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One is the Loneliest Number

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my older brother, and based on real events.

“No, definitely, we’d love to go see the movie.”

“Yeah, count me in man.”

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to see it too!”

Everyone had sounded so excited when Sam had asked not three days before. He’d been sitting with his newly made friends in the cafeteria, at a high school he’d arrived at just the month before. Perhaps he should have known better than to trust people at their word, especially high school students, but he’d always been a trusting soul.

It was two miles to the movie theatre but he didn’t want to bother Dean’s night out with his latest girlfriend by asking for a ride, so he’d walked in the cold sleet and soggy slush to arrive a good fifteen minutes early of when he’d told everyone to meet up. As he was just leaning against a pillar, finally safe under the overhang, his phone buzzed angrily at him.

**_Sorry I can’t make it. Something came up…_ **

Sam stared at the text for a moment, feeling a little dejected that one of his friends wasn’t going to be able to make it, but he was determined not to let it get him down. 

The wind whipped around his pillar and chilled him through his damp clothes, so he moved further under the overhand in front of the ticket booth and found a little ledge of concrete. Jumping up to sit on it with one, slightly awkward movement, he couldn’t help bouncing his legs back and forth in anticipation. His father, John, was out of town on a hunt and Dean had said Sam was finally old enough to go to the theatre by himself, after all he was fourteen now and Dean assured him that fourteen year olds could handle anything. However he was also swift to hand Sam his phone  and curled his larger hands around Sam’s, “Sammy, I know you’re big enough to go to the theatre by yourself, but if _anything_ , and I mean anything, goes wrong, you call me. Got that, squirt?”

“Yeah Dean, I know the drill.” He beamed at his brother, a little annoyed at his overprotectiveness, but still warmed that Dean cared. John had never told him to call if something went wrong. Well, not unless something really went wrong, like a monster was coming after them or a cop found them or something. Dean, well, Dean was willing to answer the phone even if Sam was calling just because he’d missed the last bus or got picked on at school again.

Sam would never admit it, but when Dean set limits for him it made him feel like he cared, especially because he followed through.

It was hard not to feel a little abandoned with a father like John, but Dean never let him feel lonely.

Five minutes until the movie’s posted start time and no one was here yet. Sam supposed that might justify why he was feeling just a little bit lonely. Right?

He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve, the cold causing his nose to run. He checked his watched, two minutes and still no one was here. Suddenly his phone buzzed again.

**_Hey Sam. I just woke up so… I’m gonna have to miss the movie. I hope you have fun with everyone else though._ **

Just woke up at three in the afternoon?

Sam stared at the screen and his eyes stung with little pin pricks. He told himself it was just the cold getting to him as he screwed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists. It definitely wasn’t that he wanted going to cry, nope. He was the son of a hunter and had the best big brother in the world, what did he have to be sorry for himself about?

His watch gave a little beep, the alarm he’d set to warn him to buy his tickets and get into the movie theatre or else he’d miss the opening; although there was always another good ten minutes of leeway with previews. Sam didn’t like cutting it too close though. He was punctual like that.

No one had come.

The thought hit Sam right in his gut and left him winded, gasping for air like a fish out of water. He placed his hands flat against the concrete ledge he was sitting on, fingers splayed wide as he tried to bring his breathing back under control. No one had come.

Sure, he was new in town, but…

Somehow he’d thought they were really his friends. Friends… they did things together, right? Like go out to movies and get burgers together and trade math homework for science because you forgot to do it the night before. Didn’t they? He didn’t exactly have the biggest wealth of experience to draw an answer from, what with the moving and the constant stream of new cities. But those things sounded like what friends were supposed to do together.

An image of the road map he had folded up under his bed filled his mind, little round push pins and red yarn tracing the paths that his family had driven across the US. He had a collection of post cards that he filled out to his mother, the woman who he only knew through an old photograph and Dean’s stories. John… John never talked about mom. John didn’t talk about a lot of things.

Sam was dragged out of his thoughts about post cards and maps and absent friends by a familiar sound. There was a throaty purring, a sort of metal tinged roar of an engine revving as a car idled in front of the theatre.

“Heya Sammy.”

Sam’s head shot up, his mop of brown hair covering his eyes for a moment before he blew it out of the way. Sure enough, Dean was there in his leather jacket and Casanova grin, sitting behind the wheel of the Impala.

“Where’s your friends?” he called out, eyes gazing over the few patrons who were buying tickets, looking for any kids Sam’s age.

Hopping off of his perch, Sam came running over to the window of the Impala, fingers gripping the bottom of the window frame so hard his knuckles went white. He wouldn’t cry in front of Dean. “Um… they’re late?”

A flash of anger and sadness crossed Dean’s face, but it was sudden and swift and gone in an instant, chased away by his bright grin. He reached out a hand and ruffled Sam’s hair. “They stood ya up? Well, good thing I came to check on you. Just give me a minute to park Baby and then I’ll go watch the movie with you.”

“Wait!” Sam stopped Dean from leaving, drawing his brother’s attention back from the Impala’s steering wheel. “What about your date?”

“Phsss. She called me, said she was doing her hair tonight. Go figure huh? Both of us being stood up.” She hadn’t. Dean had just been worried, and told her that he didn’t feel like going out tonight, practically running her out of the motel room. He was glad he had. “Don’t go anywhere, Sammy.”

Sam stood rooted in place as he watched Dean park the Impala and then come walking back, tossing and catching his car keys with practiced precision and grace. “I’ll buy your ticket…” Sam said, knowing that this wasn’t the type of film Dean would normally watch, and because he needed some way to thank his brother for this.

“Nope. I’m the one with the part time jobs and piles of disposable cash, remember? Wouldn’t be right for you to spend your money on me.” Dean said, gently pushing Sam into the queue for tickets.

Pulling out his cash for his own ticket, Sam couldn’t help the giant smile that spread across his face as he looked at his feet. Did he mention that he had the best big brother in the entire world?


End file.
